


Curious Thing, Isn't It?

by Darkwalk



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Species, Cultural Differences, Humor, Language Barrier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkwalk/pseuds/Darkwalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two species interact for the first time, they're bound to not understand things. Especially when no one speaks the same language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curious Thing, Isn't It?

If any of them were asked, they would say it was just a temporary stop.

In reality; their ship had been heavily damaged from a recent battle just outside the solar system, got pulled into the planet's atmosphere, and had crashed pretty badly into the ground. The bots? They were just fine. Their ship wasn't. A mangled mess of scrap couldn't get them back into space. It couldn't even run scans on their surroundings. Stranded on who-knows-what planet, the Autobots had no idea what sort of place they were in or what the native species were like.

Three days later, (after some very strange experiences) they had learned the dominant species was called human, there were concrete strips all over the place that seemed to be roads, and birds were annoying. They dropped white mud on the bots and said mechs did not like it one bit. Mirage found out that canines could sniff him out even when he was invisible, Red Alert learned trees could not easily support their weight, and no one would go near a moose after a particular incident that will not be mentioned. At the very least, skulking in the native vegetation kept them away from the humans who appeared to be the most intelligent. Some argued they were sentient because they had cities, expressed emotions, and spoke in languages. Others weren't quite convinced. 

But they didn't know enough about this planet to proceed yet, so they watched. It would have been easier if they could have downloaded some of the native languages but so far, they hadn't found a way to access the human's data net. Oh, if only their ship's console was up and working!

So a week later Optimus put together a scouting mission for recon and in the hopes of finding a better place to set up camp. Their little hillside with large boulders was nice, don't get them wrong, and the forest all around made it hard for people to notice them. But it wasn't very comfortable. And some bots really didn't like the mud and rain. Around mid-morning Ratchet, Hound, and Optimus himself set off to scout. The Prime was going because he took his turn at recon missions too and Ratchet because the medic insisted upon it. Prowl and Ironhide argued that one of them would be better but their leader replied that he needed them at camp to help keep order. (Jazz wasn't trusted with order. Morale, yes. Order, no. Not with Jazz and so many new things to distract him.) Ratchet's promptly snarled at the lot of them that he needed a few hours away from all the idiocy of the last few solar cycles or he was going to murder them all.

No one dared argue lest they bring an ill-tempered medic down on them.

Of course, things couldn't stay peaceable and normal at camp as Sideswipe just had to bungle it all into a very fine mess. Soon after the scout group had left, the big carnelian and black warrior had wandered into the alien forest to go exploring.

Who in their right mind would turn down a chance to do that? It was a wild and strange sort of jungle after all. Who knew what crazy species were hiding in there?

Being the curious explorer that he was, Sideswipe had a grand time getting lost before finding something and bringing it back to show the others, stirring them up and earning himself brig time. If they had a brig, which they currently didn't. As it was, they had been using the “Time-out Rock”. Bluestreak had named it the fourth time Sides had been ordered to sit there and not get up. 

“What,” A very serious and dangerously soft voice hummed, startling the red mech, “is that?”

Freezing as he realized he was in trouble, the frontliner gave his best 'you love me' smile, “Ah-hem, well, see, I found-”

“A human.” Prowl cut in sharply.

The Praxian stared down at the small form cupped in the shade of Sideswipe's servos. Short blonde tufted fur crowned it's head, limbs hanging limply by it's side. Compared to the rest of the organics they'd seen, this one seemed a little on the small side. Human skin came in ranges of brown and pink. The one Sides had picked up was a light shade of brown, some of it's body wrapped in blue, white, and gray cloth. 

A surprised gasp sounded behind the irate officer, “That is so cute!” Bluestreak's doorwings flapped in excitement as he peered around Prowl's shoulders and wings. So far, the planet had been one strange creature after another and the sniper thought they were all amazing.

“Ooh, I haven't had a chance to see one up close yet,” Getting in Sideswipe's space, Wheeljack curiously studied the organic. 

Growling to himself, the SIC tapped a finger to his hipplates and narrowed his optics at the human. It's small features where slack on it's face, optics hidden. “We are not supposed to interact with them yet. What excuse could you possibly have for bringing one here?”

“Well, it wasn't moving.” The twin whined petulantly, “but it's breathing so I figured it was hurt.”

“We don't know how to help it if it's hurt.” Snapped Prowl.

They both looked over at Hoist. Like most of the other bot's, he was crowding close to get a peek at the little alien. Rubbing the back of his helm and shrugging, the green medic replied hesitantly, “If it's hurt, I don't know if I can help. Organics don't work like we do.”

“Put it back Sideswipe.” Crossing his arms, the black and white Praxian leveled everyone a frigid dark look to make them backup. 

Unfortunately for him, all the arguing was enough to wake the human. As it stirred, Ironhide smirked at the mech who'd brought the small creature to their camp, “It's moving now.”

Silence fell as they all looked down at the human. Said organic rolled a little before sitting up. A few bleary blinks and then very wide brown and green flecked limpid eyes turned up to wince at the bright warm daylight reflecting off all the metal. It raised a servo to shield it's optics only to find a large number of unfamiliar and strange faces staring down.

To no one's surprise, it made loud squeaking noises in distress and started to wiggle. Sideswipe struggled to hold onto it, “Hey! Stop moving!”

“You're going to drop it.” Sunstreaker warned his brother flatly.

In the center of their makeshift camp was a large stone table. The stronger Autobots had moved a somewhat flat and long boulder on top of shorter ones and stabilized it, creating a surface to lean on, gather around, and to play cards on when they weren't on shift scouting or working repairs. It was actually the only thing there that showed the bots were around, (besides the footprint trampled grass. The ship's remains were in a ravine a hundred yards away).

Seeing no other alternatives, the red mech set the human on the table. As soon as she was put down, she quieted, continuing her stare. Jazz tisked, “We scared it. Hey there lil' one. We aint' gonna hurtcha.”

“It doesn't understand you.” Sighing, Prowl shuttered his optics and rubbed his forehelm. What were they going to do with the organic now that it was awake? 

“Uh,...time out rock?” Sides murmured, giving the commanding officer a wary look. He got a thoroughly fed up glare. Prowl's lips thinned to a harsh line. After ruminating for a long stressful moment he replied slowly.

“No. You're going to have a chat with Optimus Prime later.” 

A few collective sympathetic glances and several winces, the biggest from the troublemaker himself. The organic however gained their attention again. She carefully pushed herself up right, crouching down and keeping her shoulders hunched. The human's helm turned this way and that, trying to get a good look at all of them.

Jazz warbled softly at her. “It's the tone, Prowler. You gotta use soft tones or it'll spook.”

He tried to understand what the little creature was seeing when it looked at them and failed. A bunch of giants with glowing optics and loud sounds when they spoke? Did it understand their body language? Jazz thought that if he were to wake from recharge surrounded by creatures four or five times his size, he'd be pretty awed. Nervous but still awed. 

The visored mech tried smiling when the human looked at him but only got a blink in return. She opened her mouth and soft rounded noises came out but it was gibberish to the Cybertronians whose language was composed of clicks, whirls and tones far out of human hearing. When it became apparent that they didn't understand her, the human's frown became more pronounced. 

“It's speaking.” Perceptor seemed quite excited but Cliffjumper disagreed with crossed arms. 

“Are you sure? It didn't sound like much.”

Sitting on a boulder, Sunstreaker snorted, “It's just noise because it's scared.”

“Aren't it's optics pretty? Those little flecks of color are hundreds of tiny sensors. Isn't that amazing?” Wheeljack crouched to be more on the human's level. Organic optics were a novelty to a race whose own were glass. “They're so small and there's not one bit of wiring.”

Tracks hummed in boredom, “They are interesting.”

But Wheeljack had made the wrong move. When the human turned her head back around and realized the metal giant was right there, she made a loud high-pitched yelp and fell on her rump. 

“Sorry sorry!” The inventor immediately backed up, winglets drooping. 

Inferno sat down tiredly next to Sunstreaker to drink his energon ration and take a break from helping Red set up sensors around camp. “At this rate you'll give the little critter a spark attack.”

“Pump failure,” Hoist corrected, “They don't have sparks.”

“Just put it back. What if human's are poisonous?” Red Alert huffed, crossing his arms and warily keeping his pale optics on the organic.

Perceptor frowned and turned to the Security Director, “We've seen no evidence to suggest that.”

Oblivious to all the chatter, the human slowly climbed to her feet. Staring at Wheeljack's wilted body language, she took a step forward. Then a hesitant hop. No one moved. When only a few feet away, she carefully reached out a servo to touch his white chest armor. The inventor gave a quietly amused rumble and the human smiled, relaxing a little. 

Only to put one servo on her hip and point the other at the bot, angry barking chatter spilling from her vocalizer.

The bots started to laugh at the scene, as Wheeljack stared at her with a dazed and confused expression in his optics. Jazz guffawed and tried to hide it while Bluestreak gave a very loud 'awwww!' Even Sunstreaker had a tiny grin starting to creep up his faceplates.

“It's waving it's servo!” Snickered Sideswipe.

Raising an optic ridge at Cliffjumper, Perceptor gave the minibot a stare down, “Still thinks it's not sentient?”

“Alright, alright. No need for the I-told-you-so.” The horned mech huffed.

Turning around, the human looked at the giants ringed around the table quizzically before looking at Wheeljack again. He carefully offered her an empty gray servo, palm up. With a gently pat, she set her own on his and very seriously looked up. The human made a short sound and looked down again, studying his fingers. 

No one could translate what the organic had said but she seemed amazed at the size difference. Soon, the blonde was moving Wheeljack's digits up and down to see the gears between the plates move. The inventor, of course, was studying her as much as she was studying him. “Curious thing, isn't it?”

“It think it's cute.” Blue grinned, offering his own servo so the human would hopefully come near him. She tilted her head at the sniper and watched his doorwings instead, apparently fascinated with the moving metal plates. 

“Can we please return it to it's home?” Growling, Red Alert looked at Prowl for help. The Praxian sighed. 

“I don't know if it will allow us to pick it up.”

She had gone back to playing with Wheeljack's fingers. Straining, the human pushed his digits up until he curled his hand so she could see his knuckles. But she pushed too far and her foot slipped off the edge of the high tabletop. 

Everyone twitched in an abortive move to catch the organic but Wheeljack quickly scooped her up and pushed her back. “That was close! Lets stay near the middle okay?”

“Ahm gonna get a spark attack at this rate.” Jazz blew out a relieved breath. 

The human's hazel optics had gone wide again, skin changing to a paler color and vents working quickly. After a few seconds, the rapid in-out movement on her chest slowed and she grew less tense. Ironhide rumbled, “Well, what're we gonna do with it?”

“Put it back?!” Snapped Red Alert, each syllable stressed. The security mech tapped one foot impatiently against the ground.

Perking up, Wheeljack pulled something from his subspace, “Here we go! It can play with this for awhile.”

He handed her a hardlight pen. As long as her forearm, the thin metal stylus tapered to a rounded point at one end. Holding the object carefully, the organic's face screwed up, wrinkles appearing around it's mouth and nose. Wheeljack used two fingers to show her how to push down on the indented area in the metal. Having to use one hand to hold the pen and the other to push down, the human nearly fell over as she lurched back when the rounded end lit up yellow. Face brightening, she made happy sounds and smiled widely. 

“It's showing it's teeth.” Red Alert warned.

A few of the others sighed. Visor twinkling, Jazz just chuckled, “I think it's having fun.”

Indeed, the human did seem to like the glowing pen. Even more so when she realized she could make yellow glowing lines on the grainy rock surface. As she puttered and scampered around drawing squiggles and simple pictures, the bots talked among themselves or watched. 

Wheeljack laughed when the human tried to sneakily graffiti patterns on the back of his servo. “Are we sure Optimus won't let up keep the human around for a solar cycle or two? It seems happy.”

“It has a home.” Replied Prowl, rejecting the plea, “I'm sure there are others missing it.”

“But it's cute!” Bluestreak pouted, “And funny. It's drawing on Sideswipe.”

“What!”

The frontliner had not been paying attentions and jerked his helm down to see the organic sketching yellow flames that sprouted form his knuckles and reached up to his forearm. As the sudden shout, she froze and slowly looked up. Muscles tensing, the human set the pen down and crouched. Brown and green eyes didn't leave Sideswipe even as Jazz groaned. 

“Now look what you did! Low tones, mech, I said low tones.” Shaking his helm, the black and white bot gestured at her, “Now it's makin' itself small 'cause it thinks it's in trouble.”

With a roll of his optics (a gesture the bots had noticed humans doing), Sideswipe pushed his left arm closer and nudged the drawing utensil towards the human, “Okay, finish that. But they have to be epic flames.”

The others snorted as the red mech smiled at their guest. Still watching his every movement like he was about to lash out, she carefully picked up the pen and went back to her artwork. The human started relaxing with each stroke of hardlight as no one yelled. Sunstreaker eyed his twin for a long moment before pulling out two of his own hardlight pens, orange and red. 

“Here,” he placed them near the human who tilted her helm at the offering, “If you're going to doodle on my brother, make it look good. But don't get any bright ideas about keeping these.”

“I'll make sure it draws on you next.” The red twin offered sweetly.

Sunstreaker curled a lip, “Don't even think about it.”

Thankful and cheery twittering interrupted the razzing as the human used the new colors. Before long, she'd moved on to other bots and the gold mech brought out more colors for her to use. Ironhide got tribal looking curved lines, dots, and triangles. She traded the orange pen for a white one and sketched what Perceptor claimed were wings on Bluestreak. Stylish birds, insect wings, and feathers glowed on his gray armor. He even held still so she could put a butterfly on the tip of one doorwing, although he wiggled the entire time. 

“It tickles!” The sniper giggled, trying not to move. 

Going back to Wheeljack, she drew swirls and stars in every color she could. Red Alert scowled and moved away from the table when she tried to use violet-red on him. The human just lifted and dropped her shoulder before scampering to Mirage and using blue and white to make complex tangled swirls that matched his color scheme. Grimacing, the once-Noble made a low comment about hardlight pens being for younglings but several sharp looks from some of the others kept him where he was seated. 

When she got to Prowl, the organic stared at him hard for a solid minute (to which he stared back and a quick staring contest took place). Eventually, she marched toward Wheeljack. The organic returned his yellow pen with another soft-rounded sound in her language and went over to Sunny. Crossing thin arms, the little creature contemplated her choices seriously and then gave the gold mech his pens, gesturing at the silver, gold, and dark red that lay in the pile on the table.

Without a word, Sunstreaker traded the three and everyone watched as the human stalked back over to the SIC. It was adorable. The little foot stomps almost sent Bluestreak and Jazz into laughing fits. 

Staring up at Prowl, the human made a sound and gestured for the bot to come down closer to her level. When he only raised an optic ridge, she barked sharply and waved her servos. The others sided with her. 

“Come on mech,” Blaster encouraged with a flash of denta, “It's your turn.”

Sideswipe smirked, temporarily forgetting he was in trouble, “Ironhide got painted, so you have to.”

“I do not.” The Praxian retorted in a mildly hostile tone.

But two of the other officers decided to gang up on him. “I'll sit on ya Prowler.” Smiling widely, Jazz flashed a crazy grin and stood up, going to do as he threatened. Ironhide rumbled a deep chuckle. 

“Ah'll help 'im.”

The human barked louder and stomped a foot, immediately sending Blue into a fit of 'awww!' Venting in annoyance and exasperated defeat, Prowl mock glared at his teammates who only smirked back. Finally the mech bent closer to the rock table. Apparently, that was enough to satisfy the silly creature. 

She quickly used gold on his faceplates. The glowing lines curved under his optics and down his cheekplates like talons. Two more shorter curves went on the other ends by his nose. 

“Hey, that looks pretty cool.” Bumblebee grinned.

The painted mech hummed neutrally but didn't move as the human continued. Carefully applied silver lines swept around the curves on his armor, highlighting his chevron and chest area. Ruby red twined with gold in convoluted braided strips to border his plating. After a long hour under the late afternoon sun, she was apparently satisfied and returned Sunstreaker's pens. 

“Aww, you look nice Prowler.” teased Jazz, “An' here you didn't wanna let the little thin' paint yah.”

“It's not bad.” Tracks admitted, although the blue and orange mech eyed some of the wobbly lines critically.

Prowl grimaced, doorwings flicking back, “It is unnecessary. We are currently stranded and instead of doing anything useful, we're playing with one of the natives.”

“Like there's anything better for us to do right now.” The Commander twisted around to narrow his optics at who ever had muttered the comment but everyone either looked away or (in Ironhide's case) smirked.

“I think something is wrong with it.” An interruption came from Red. He was no longer glaring at the human but now looked the tiniest bit worried. Not enough for anyone to call him out on it though. Of course he didn't care if the little alien was alright! It was probably poisonous anyways!

They all looked over to see her sitting next to Wheeljack in the shade cast by the bot, legs drawn in and strange optics closed. She was leaning against his arm and not moving.

“Oh, I think it's fine!” Hurriedly reassuring the others, the inventor shifted into a more comfortable position without moving his arm. Audio finials lit up in calm sky blue. “Probably wore itself out. It's just recharging.

“Oooooh.....” Sideswipe muttered to himself.

It finally clicked in his mind that the human hadn't been injured when he'd picked her up. Peering sideways at Prowl, the red mech got a single raised optic ridge in response and winced. Yeah, he was still in trouble, good intentions notwithstanding. 

The conversations at the table shifted to concerns on how to get parts to fix their ship (if it was even fixable) or to get a new one while bots switched patrol duty and scouted the immediate area. The hot afternoon sun changed positions overhead and moved towards it's western destination. As a couple hours went by, bots set up solar panels to collect energy, made mesh patches from scrap metal or plotted ways to convince Optimus to let them keep the human. Only Bluestreak and Wheeljack were doing the last activity, with Prowl shooting down every new idea. Ironhide and Jazz took smug satisfaction in randomly joining a side to play devil's advocate before returning to their card game. Smokescreen was easily winning with the two officers not paying so much attention to their datacards. 

As evening descended, the Cybertronians heard their teammates approaching. Wings shooting up, Bluestreak looked ready to dash towards the returning mechs and beg to keep their newest friend but Red Alert's warning look had him slouching next to the inventor at the stone table. Jazz bounced forward to greet the party first as Optimus, Ratchet, and Hound climbed the grassy hill up to camp. 

“Hey Boss-Bot! You're all still alive, in one piece, and hopefully sane!” 

The TIC grinned cheerfully while everyone else huffed in amusement or ignored the remark. Giving them all a once-over to make sure no one had done anything stupid, Ratchet grumbled, “You lot are all still alive. I'm impressed. Last time you were left alone, I distinctly remember someone having their servos magnetized to their aft.” Cackles and sniggering broke out from several mechs while others tried to edge behind their crewmates or at the very least avoid the medic's sharp optics.

With a solemn face, Prowl went and stood before Optimus. “Sir, we're glad to see you've returned. Was your scouting successful?”

“To some extent.” Sighed the tall red and blue bot, stretching the kinks out of his cables and taking a seat on a boulder. A curious look went toward the painted bots. While hardlight did fade, it wouldn't dim until the next solarcycle at the very least. “I see you were quite busy.” The comment was spoken with ill-concealed humor.

Standing ram-rod straight, the second in command stated flatly, “For the record, I was coerced.”

“Is that so?” The corners of the Prime's optics crinkled, giving away the fact that he was smiling beneath the face mask. In such a situation, stressed out bots taking the time to relax a little was a good thing. Much better than being high-strung and with touchy tempers. A glance at the rest of the gathered bots showed a number of grinning faces, stifled giggles, and not so innocent expressions, “In my opinion, you like quite nice.”

“The recon mission, sir?” Prowl gritted out, ignoring the peanut gallery behind him.

Optimus grew serious, “There were several places that can be used if necessary but none are better than this. We did gain access to the human's data net so their languages will no longer be an issue.” Several excited whispers started up although some people shrugged in boredom. If Perceptor were less dignified, he probably would have made grabby hands. As it was, he was first in line as Ratchet started giving them the downloads.

“It'll take a few hours.” Explained the medic gruffly, “There's a ton of language rules and even more exceptions. The whole thing barely makes any sense.”

Unfortunately for certain people, Ratchet chose that moment to turn a little to the left and catch Trailbreaker in the act of gaining Hound's attention and subtly pointing to their guest in recharge. While the tracker's optics lit up with interest, the medic's went from mellow to raging storm in two seconds flat. 

“Why is there a human here?!”

An almighty Scowl of Doom was directed toward the entire lot of them but when all optics turned to Sideswipe, the CMO focused his infuriated gaze upon him. Shrinking the tiniest bit, the red mech inched toward his twin for backup. Sunstreaker glared. He had nothing to do with it and was not taking the blame this time, thank you. 

So Sideswipe tried explaining. Prowl interrupted, Wheeljack excitedly told them why all this was a good thing (native interactions and all), Bluestreak tried using his turbo-puppy optics, and Red Alert wanted the visitor gone before she tried to kill them.

It didn't go over well. And the plan to keep the alien was vetoed for good.

“About time. It doesn't need to stay around us.” Harrumphed the security director, satisfied now.

“She.” Hound corrected, studying the sleeping organic closely.

Several bots exchanged looks, “She?”

“Yes. Humans have gender distinctions. He or She.” He explained.

Optimus added in, “'It' implies object-hood and is considered an insult.”

A collective 'ooohh' went through the group. However, Hound's enthusiasm fell away as a thought occurred to him. Green armor plates flattened in a fretful manner and optics dimmed just a bit. Wheeljack noticed and tilted his helm in worry. “What's wrong?”

“Um, how long has she been here?”

A concerned flicker of yellow from the inventor's audio finials, “Since before mid-solar cycle. Whyyyyyy????” He drew out the word like he really wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer but had to ask anyways. 

“.....Did anyone make sure she had food or water?”

Dead silence had them all freezing. Several people visibly cringed and anyone minibot sized hid behind taller mechs. The only sounds were twittering birds from the nearby trees and the cicadas. Ratchet's armor flared out making him look twice as big as he really was.

“NONE OF YOU FRAGGING IDIOTS THOUGHT TO FEED HER?! ORGANICS HAVE TO CONSUME FOOD AND WATER!! She's been here ALL day and hasn't eaten or drunken a SINGLE thing!?”

No response. Contrary to popular belief, most of the crew was not suicidal. Give the mechs a good battle. One with lots of enemies, plenty of cannon-fire and almost no weapons. Tons of Decepticons. They could fight that. They couldn't, however, fight their own medic. Nor did they wish to. After a long pause and not-so-subtle nudges, Sideswipe took one for the team and bit the bullet. “Well, we don't know what humans eat and none of use thought about it.......”

“No wonder she's slagging unconscious! She's exhausted because she has no energy, you glitched morons!” Roared the irate mech. Ratchet may have been shorter than Sideswipe by several inches but he more than made up for it with pure aggressive shaming. And profanity. Lots of that too. 

The vitriolic bellowing startled the human out of sleep. Lurching in surprise, she blinked muzzily at her new friends and then the other three. After a huge yawn, she plopped her tiny servos in her lap and warbled something quiet. Most of the Autobots heard gibberish. The only three mechs who had the downloads heard a mutter, “Oh, there's more of you.”

“Yes. There it.” Snapped Ratchet in English, still very pissed off.

She yelped in shock, jumping and nearly falling backward before staring at the mechanical giant, “You speak my language?! Finally!” A big grin followed her cheer as she scrambled to her feet. 

“I do apologize for my team's behavior.” Optimus crouched to be more on her level even though the human stood on the flat stone, “Sideswipe thought you were injured and brought you here.”

Hazel eyes blinked at the frontliner who was trying to inch behind Inferno, “The big red and black one? Oh, that's alright. I was napping outside because there's such nice weather. I was kinda wondering about the whole kidnapping thing.”

“Drink.” Interrupted Ratchet with an order, shoving a water bottle at the girl.

She took it with a confused 'thanks' and chugged half of it gratefully. Her stomach still rumbled from hunger but her throat wasn't as dry. Blaster gave their medic a look. “Why were you carrying that, mech?”

“Because.”

“Because why.....?”

Ratchet turned to look at the cassette carrier in the faceplates and the orange and yellow mech quickly took a step back. “Because.”

“Okay.”

Hound stage whispered to the others, “He wants to make sure he can help the natives if they get hurt.”

“Didn't think he'd care.” Muttered Sunstreaker lowly.

Waiting until their guest was done drinking, Optimus requested a favor, “We would prefer to remain hidden for the time being. Could you refrain from telling others about us?”

“Um........” The delayed response was not encouraging. Hound started translating so the others could keep up and understand what was being said. Watching the bots warily, the human peered up at the Prime, “Are you guys here to destroy Earth?”

“Absolutely not.” The red and blue titan rejected firmly. The very idea seemed to pain him. “We did not even plan to land here.”

“So you guys are aliens?” A confirmation nod, “Okay, so do you hurt people? Like humans?”

“No. We mean no harm. We're just stranded for the time being.”

A beat of silence as she turned around to study each of the watching mechs. Her mouth twitched back and forth. Rocking back on her feet, the human finally replied, “Okay.”

“Okay? You're fine with us?” Looking at her quizzically, Hound blurted out in surprise. A shrug and nod in reply.

“Sure. Why not? You guys have been pretty friendly so far.”

There was no answer for that. Relaxing now that that issue was cleared up, the Autobot leader beckoned Sideswipe over. He came in wary hops and kept several feet between himself and Ratchet. The red and white medic stared like he was watching injured prey. Optimus ignored the antics. “Sideswipe will return you to your home.”

“That's alright. I actually know where I am and can walk from here.” A pause as the blonde brushed the hair from her face. “You guys can come by any time you like. Since you're not out to destroy the human race or my planet and all. Being stranded must not be fun.” She finished dryly.

“That would be appreciated.” Gratefully accepting, the Prime tipped his helm, “As long as it would not cause you distress.”

Wheeljack tapped Optimus on the elbow and quickly asked him to relay a message. “Wheeljack would like you to keep the hardlight pen since you seemed so fond of it.” The shorter mech held the drawing tool out to her.

“It's fun! It glows.” She reverently took the tool and grinned widely. Focusing on the inventor, she repeated his name. “Wheeljack. Can you tell him I said thank you?”

Nodding at the request, Optimus murmured something in Cybertronian. Wheeljack clicked a reply and then the leader said, “Your welcome.” Looking down at the human, the mech repeated it, helm fins lighting up a cheery bright cyan.

“Your welcome.”

She burst into giggles, patting the white plating on his armor and clutching the hard light pen. The inventor looked confused, wondering if he'd said it wrong but still pleased at the human's positive response. 

Taking note of the setting sun, Optimus decided it was getting late. He offered an empty servo to help their guest off the table. Bluestreak waved (a goodbye gesture he'd seen the humans do) an she waved back. Optimus gestured for Sideswipe to stay near him before rumbling in a deep baritone, “Once again, I apologize. We've kept you from your people all day.”

Another shrug as she hopped into his hand, “It's fine, really. I had fun. After the initial freak-out of course.”

“Still,” the titan started carrying her towards the edge of their camp with the frontliner in tow. Sides would make sure she got home safely, “I know how over-excitable, rambunctious, or frustrating they can be at times.”

There was a very loud snort of agreement behind them from Ratchet. When Hound repeated what the Prime had said in Cybertronian, the bots either started snickering or crossed their arms and huffed because their leader couldn't possibly be talking about them. 

She barked a laugh, “Really, it's okay. They were just curious.”


End file.
